


brighter than the sun

by luckycharmz



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Fluff, M/M, Mickey loving on Ian, Post-Season/Series 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:40:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24362200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckycharmz/pseuds/luckycharmz
Summary: “Ow!” Mickey rasps, “you kneed me, asshole.” He rubs at his thigh and frowns, knowing damn well it’ll leave a bruise.Ian all but turns on his side, an arm draping over Mickey’s waist and pulls him close, as if nothing happened. “Course I need you, baby,” he murmurs sleepily and nuzzles his nose into Mickey’s hair.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 61
Kudos: 430





	brighter than the sun

**Author's Note:**

> 1000 words of absolute fluff.
> 
> The fandom needs more Mickey loving on Ian fics instead of y’all hating on Ian and trashing him 24/7.

Mickey watches as Ian sleeps. The parting in the curtains let’s the sun seep through just enough so Ian’s bare chest is drenched in hues of gold.

It’s nice. To be the first one awake, to be able to openly gaze at his husband without anyone saying anything. The silence of the Gallagher house so early let’s him appreciate the sight even more, completely focused.

He runs a finger down the bridge of Ian’s nose and watches as he scrunches it up. Ian’s head is tilted toward him, mouth ajar and he looks stupidly perfect.

His freckles glisten under the sunlight, smattered all over his body, clustering on his shoulders. Only Ian can make freckles look cute at fifteen and sexy at twenty five, Mickey thinks.

“Kinda nice when you ain’t talkin my head off, Gallagher,” he whispers to himself. He knows somewhere in the back of Ian’s mind he can hear him, he’s probably telling him to shut the fuck up, too. 

Mickey rests his hand on Ian’s bicep, how he usually wakes up these days since it’s too hot to cuddle. He’s always had a habit of touching Ian in some way as they sleep or vice versa, the comfort in knowing the other is there is like none other.

“You’re one pretty motherfucker,” he says a few moments later. He may as well say all the thoughts in his mind while Ian’s asleep, no fear of getting teased afterwards. And it’s not like he’s wrong, Ian’s like a painting; crafted and pieced together without a flaw, one of a kind and priceless. 

Screw it all, he shifts closer and kisses Ian’s bare shoulder, warmth spreading all throughout his body. Just when he’s about to say something, Ian shifts under him and Mickey stills, waiting for his eyes to open but they don’t, instead-

“ _Ow!_ ” Mickey rasps, “you kneed me, asshole.” He rubs at his thigh and frowns, knowing damn well it’ll leave a bruise.

Ian all but turns on his side, an arm draping over Mickey’s waist and pulls him close, as if nothing happened. “Course I need you, baby,” he murmurs sleepily and nuzzles his nose into Mickey’s hair. 

A million emotions go through Mickey’s mind as he hears those words surrounded by Ian’s voice so low and exuding conviction even in this state of mind. He looks over Ian’s face and can see the lift of his lips- that’s the breaking point for Mickey as his face splits into a grin. 

Even an unconscious Ian has Mickey left in a puddle of love and a blushing mess.

It’s un-fuckin-believable but Mickey can’t bring himself to give a shit as he lets his smile grow as wide as it possibly wants to. He turns and nuzzles himself into Ian’s chest. “Sappy, bitch.”

“ _Mm_ , least I’m not a needy bitch.”

At that Mickey’s brows raise comically and just when he’s about to turn and throw in his two cents, Ian’s arms wrap around him. Holding him down just a little tighter, a little closer. 

“You love me. M’your pretty motherfucker,” he says, it sounds soothing- hypnotic almost and Mickey loves it. The way it sounds and _feels_ , how it rumbles from his chest, a feeling only he’ll ever know.

“Nosy fuck, mind your business,” he grumbles into Ian’s chest, not the least bit mad even if he tries.

“You are my business, got the papers ‘n rings to prove it,” he slurs drowsily, a dopey smile on his face.

“Shut the fuck up and go’ta sleep.”

He pokes at Ian’s ribs until he’s squirming underneath him, just enough to catch him off guard and then he’s flipping himself over. Now hovering over Ian with both his arms framing Ian’s face.

Slowly Ian blinks his eyes open, slitted eyes peering up along with that lopsided smile and Mickey thinks there is no way people fall in love once when he gets to every day. Just at the sight of those sea green eyes and that smile that always takes his breath away.

“Morning, _husband_ ,” Ian says deeply and Mickey figures he’s had enough time to adjust and to know he’s using _that_ voice on purpose. His arms circle around Mickey’s lower back and pull him down all in a smooth motion, now chest to chest.

Any and all threats are lost on Mickey’s tongue because of that word. The word that even after years of hearing will make him feel giddy inside.

“Think you’re a tough guy, ay?”

“Nah but my husband is so I’d watch my tone if I were you.”

“Bet I could take that pansy on any day.” Mickey moves on his side just as Ian does. 

“Correction, only I can _take him on._ ” Ian wiggles his brows playfully and winks through hooded eyes and fuck him for making it all look so sexy and easy. 

“Sex is the first thing on your mind when you wake up. That all I am to you, Gallagher?” Mickey feigns hurt but the teasing is evident in his tone. 

“Says the guy that woke up early yesterday only to suck me off before going back to sleep.” He pauses, “and of course not, you’re more than sex, you’re also a hot piece of ass, _Gallagher_.” He emphasizes his point by squeezing Mickey’s ass playfully.

Mickey makes a face at him and rolls his eyes, so fucking what if that’s true? Liking what he likes doesn’t make him a bitch.. well not until he’s begging.

The next few moments are spent bickering as they always do before it dies down and they’re left hearing even breaths filter the silence. Ian’s eyes droop shut, his limbs wrap around Mickey who’s once again gazing up at him.

“Suppose you talkin ain’t all bad.” Mickey presses a kiss to Ian’s shoulder and closes his eyes.

He figures if being pressed together on a hot summer morning is the most of his problems these days, then he’ll take it any day of the fucking week.

**Author's Note:**

> 🤍


End file.
